


Model

by Glitch1 (The_Glitches)



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Cute, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Relationship, blurted feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-14 23:14:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14146722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Glitches/pseuds/Glitch1
Summary: Bulkhead wants to paint an image of Prowl. Short 'n' sweet.





	Model

**Author's Note:**

> Managed to find some time to write yesterday. Those who were hoping for a new chapter of my PrimeStar fic, I'm really sorry I haven't finished the next chapter yet, but sooooooon.
> 
> This fic, I really love size differences, and Bulkhead crushing on Prowl is just too cute.

“Can I, uh… paint you?”

The silence that followed was so still and insecure Bulkhead held his ventilations anxiously, sure he was about to regret asking.

Prowl stared at him, expression typically unreadable. While Bulkhead had mostly admired that feature, he wished for a more telling one right now. The small ninjabot shifted minutely, his glossy finish flashing in the light streaming through the warehouse window. The movement was small, but Bulkhead’s spark jerked; had he made Prowl uneasy?

“You want to use me as a model?” Prowl queried, his usually reserved tone tinted with surprise as his visor angled into an inquisitive frown.

His lilt of wonder gave Bulkhead a surge of confidence that had been dwindling with the ticking seconds. Suddenly the rec room didn’t feel so suffocating, and whatever courage had gripped him moments before he had sidled up to the small bot reared back up.

“Well, yeah,” he exclaimed, as though this needed no explanation, shifting weight enthusiastically from one large pede to the other. “You’re like, a perfect subject to paint because you can stand so still and you’re really pretty – and Sari told me my art would look better if I paint things I’m interested in and – ”

He cut himself off, and once again the stifling silence dominated the space between them. Yet, the quality of it was now different, and for the first time that Bulkhead could remember, Prowl’s expression was most definitely _not_ unreadable. He looked modestly stunned, and stunning because of it. Bulkhead felt embarrassed of his verbal reveals, but couldn’t begrudge his careless words if that was their result.

“You’re… interested in me?” Prowl repeated, a slow, uncertain voice.

Bulkhead felt rooted to the spot, trapped. “Uh,” he began, afraid he might ruin what budding friendship he had with Prowl. “Yeah?” Silence stepped back in, and Bulkhead was beginning to despise it. He looked down at his huge servos, fidgeting with the broom-slash-paintbrush he had brought in with him. “I mean, I do. But I’m just – just asking to paint you, I’m not trying to – I don’t wanna – I mean, I would love to ask – but I don’t wanna ruin our friendship so I just wanted to do a painting of you if you’ll let me.” He paused, listening to the echo of his own words and silently cursed his rambling. His gaze had fallen in a heated flush to the floor, so he glanced back at the ninjabot.

It was always difficult to know for sure where Prowl was looking, but if the weight on his plating was any indication, Prowl was staring at him. His lip plated had parted in mild surprise and his visor angle had softened. Finally, he shifted on his heeled pedes and gestured vaguely to the direction of Bulkhead’s ‘studio’.

“How do you want me?” He asked, his tone gentle and soothing.

However, inappropriate thoughts sprung up at the small bot’s choice of words, and they both shifted self-consciously.

“What pose,” Prowl quickly rectified, head bowed almost shyly as a small, apologetic smile made its way to his face.

_‘Like that_ ,’ Bulkhead wanted to say, because the picture before him was beautiful. Instead he said, “Sari showed me some good model poses, you could pick one from them?”

Prowl nodded. “Ok.” He gestured for Bulkhead to lead the way to his work room, his expression absent of its usual hard edges and cold distance.

Bulkhead smiled – no, Bulkhead beamed.

This would be a painting he would treasure.


End file.
